


We Begin Again

by amidtheflowers



Category: Glass (2019), Split (2016)
Genre: Character Death Fix, F/M, Fix-It, M. Night Shyamalan come at me, Superpowers, Written as a sequel to Glass, amidtheflowers continues retconning poor decisions made in canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-14 14:03:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19274818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amidtheflowers/pseuds/amidtheflowers
Summary: “Your hair grew out.”The Horde is alive, and Casey isn't quite sure what to make of it. Especially when The Beast is only the tip of their superhuman iceberg.





	1. Reanimation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovely friends! This month during a particularly nasty bout of food poisoning, I watched Split and Glass to cheer myself up. These are both brilliant pieces of work, but...boy, did I want to change that ending. So here we are! Ta-da!
> 
> I've set this loosely in present-day; with Casey is 20 and Kevin is 28.
> 
> Enjoy! x
> 
>  
> 
> **Disclaimer: Split and its respective characters belong to M. Night Shyamalan et. al; I just like playing in their sandbox.**

**We Begin Again**

**-:-**

“Hope drowned in shadows  
emerges fiercely splendid--  
boldly angelic."

― Aberjhani, _The River of Winged Dreams_

**-:-**

**Chapter 1** **:** Reanimation

Casey’s hands go still on the laces of her shoes, half bunny-loops between her fingers. A pair of black boots appear in her field of vision; neatly laced.

“Don’t tell me you work here, now.”

She swallows thickly, heartbeat accelerating. Her eyes travel from shoes, jeans, to lightly clenched hands. The voice is unmistakable. She knows who it is—god, does she know—but can’t bring herself to look at his face. Not yet.

Too many times this scenario had gone through her head since Kevin died in her arms two years ago. Casey would be on her own, doing some mundane thing, and Kevin or Barry or Dennis would show themselves—a veritable ‘gotcha!’ moment that would conclude in tears and joy. He’d tell her it was a miracle and everything was okay now and they could be friends again.

Only now, it is real.

Slowly, like petals unfurling, Casey rises to stand. She takes a deep, trembling breath. Then another. He’s waiting for her patiently.

Licking her lips, Casey lifts her eyes to meet his.

A sharp frown and a pair of glasses is all Casey needs before everything around her crumbles, splintering off until all she can see is Dennis. His eyes are the same crystalline blue, like tanzanite in shallow water. She wants to shout, to cry, to demand an explanation; she wants to grab hold of him and keep him there as long as she can.

Her eyes flicker to his head.

“Your hair grew out.”

Dennis blinks. Self-consciously, he runs his hand and tugs on the locks that cover his head, still relatively short but just long enough to hold a fistful.

“Uh, yeah. It did.” He glances at her own hair. “You’re blonde.”

Casey nods, sheepishly tugging at the golden strands. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. Something different.”

Dennis nods, almost distracted in the way he looks over her. He drops his hand and stares at her with such earnestness that Casey almost weeps.

“Did you…I mean, would you still—”

“Can I touch it? Your hair?”

Dennis’s mouth parts, taken a little aback. “I—right now?”

“No, not right now. Later, maybe?” Casey shrugs lightly. She’s impressed how coherent she is despite her mind doing internal somersaults.

“Yeah. Yeah, sure. Casey.” Dennis shakes his head, fingers clenching on empty air. “I’m not doing any of this right.”

“It’s okay. Keep going.”

Dennis stares at her and exhales a sigh. Casey takes a step, her gaze locked on his, and his words falter. “Before, with Kevin, you said that you were really his friend.”

Casey nods. “I did.”

His eyes flicker over her as she takes another step forward. Her movement is slow and pointed, giving him time to know exactly what she’s about to do. When she’s inches away, the frown on his mouth gives way to something strangled and vulnerable.

Dennis’s eyes shutter at their proximity. His voice comes out in a soft, hoarse breath. “Do you still mean it?”

_No more waiting._

Casey throws caution to the wind and wraps her arms around Dennis’s shoulders, drawing him close to her chest. As tight as she can get him. “What do you think?” Casey says against his jacket.

She hears a low hiss and feels a tremor run through him before his arms come up to hold onto her tightly. Dennis’s last words ring in her head, vivid and fractured— _I should never have listened to her; these pants got blood on ‘em. We gotta clean these pants, Casey._

Casey squeezes him tighter.

“Oh,” Dennis breathes, gasping unevenly. “Shit.”

He shudders violently, and suddenly rears back.

“Oh, baby doll,” Barry grins down at her, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, “you won’t _believe_ how happy we are to hear that.” Another twitch, and Jade takes Casey’s face in her hands. “See? You see? I _told_ them but does anyone ever listen to Jade? No! Casey’s our friend, she’s our—” A hiss and a shudder, then:

“CASEY!”

Casey grins and lets out an _oomph_ when Hedwig completely bowls her over, landing on top of her on the sidewalk.

“ _I’m so happy I’m so happy I’m so happy!_ ” Hedwig rears back and smiles down at her. “My first girlfriend _and_ my first friend. Mr. Dennis doesn’t believe that we kissed, but now you can tell him yourself. Me and Jade, we had to beg him to slow down for a second and see if you’re okay; I mean, the last thing we saw wasn’t so good, right?”

“How did you do it?” Casey tries not to show the depth of emotion that just looking at him stirs in her. The last thing either of them need is a snotty mess of a Casey, especially when she can hardly breathe with Hedwig’s full weight on top of her.

Hedwig frowns deeply. “Do what? Ask Mr. Dennis?”

“Escape. Come…come back to life. You,” Casey swallows hard, “you died, Hedwig. All of you did.”

Hedwig’s face scrunches up. “I don’t really know. I remember Kevin had the light, and the light started going out, and Kevin told us something about believing, and Miss Patricia kept telling me to say the words, and then we woke up.” Hedwig shrugs, smiling proudly at what he thinks is a perfect explanation.

“What were the words?” Casey asks.

“I don’t remember. Do you wanna get ice cream?”

Casey pauses for a beat. “Absolutely.”

Hedwig beams.

-:-

Hedwig’s finished half of his coconut cookie crumble by the time they leave Harper’s Ice Cream. Casey licks at her own cone, leaning against the parking meter.

“It is so weird seeing you drive,” Hedwig lisps around his cone. He settles against the passenger door to her Civic.

“Why?”

“I dunno. It makes you all grown up.”

“I don’t feel grown up,” Casey admits.  

“Is that a pizza parlor over there?” Hedwig points behind her.

Casey turns her head, nodding. “Yeah. Wanna go eat there next?” Casey turns back around and finds Dennis staring dubiously at the mostly-demolished cone in his hand. He regards her questioningly.

“Hedwig wanted ice cream,” Casey explains.

“I can see that,” Dennis replies. He glances at her cone.

Casey adds, “I wanted some too.”

Dennis stifles a grimace and walks to the public waste bin, tossing the last bit of the cone. When he comes back he gives Casey a firm look. “We have a lot to talk about.”

“We do,” Casey agrees, familiar nerves fluttering in her belly. Fun time is clearly over. “We could stay here or go to my apartment. It’s like three minutes away.”

Dennis’s brows furrow for a moment. “Whatever’s easiest for you.”

“Well…you probably shouldn’t risk being out so much. Right?” Casey asks. Dennis lifts his shoulder in a half-shrug, tucking his hands in his pockets. “My apartment, then.”

“After you.”

Casey finishes off her cone and goes to the driver’s side of the car. Dennis settles quietly in the passenger seat as she drives, taking note of the empty wrappers and water bottles along the console. He folds his hands primly over his lap.

“Sorry.” Casey winces. “I haven’t had the chance to clean up yet. Midterms just ended.”

“You don’t—it’s alright.” Dennis offers a wan smile. “It’s your car.” His eyes wander over the dashboard. “Car, college…you’ve done well for yourself. I’m glad.”

Casey stares straight ahead on the road. “The car was a gift from my foster parents. One of those ‘pay three grand and you own it’ kinds. And it’s a community college.” Her fingers tap restlessly on the steering wheel. “I got a scholarship, you know?”

“Yeah? Good for you.”

“Thanks.”

A pause. “And the apartment?” Dennis inquires.

The corner of Casey’s mouth lifts in a half-smile. “I work. It’s Philly. The commute is short.”

“So you do work at the zoo.”

Casey exhales softly. As if her work uniform isn’t a dead giveaway. “Just a cashier at the gift shop. It pays the bills.” Casey’s fingers squeeze the steering wheel briefly. “But you already knew all of this. Didn’t you?”

Dennis stiffens. Casey looks away from the road briefly to glance over him. “I wouldn’t have expected anything else, honestly. You can unclench.”

Dennis stares at his clasped hands, finding the right words. “I just…needed to know it was safe.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

Casey pulls to the side of a curb in front of a set of two doors to an apartment building, both painted bright red. “Mine’s the one on the right,” she tells Dennis when they get out of the car. She jogs up the steps, key ready, and opens the door for them. She leads Dennis up a narrow stairwell before stopping at another door, labeled _2A_.

Dennis carefully wipes his shoes on the welcome mat when he steps inside. “It’s not much,” Casey tells him, feeling oddly embarrassed at the small living space, despite the fact that Dennis’s last residence was in the basement of the Philadelphia Zoo.

“It’s nice,” Dennis says quietly. “Clean.”

They stand awkwardly for a moment before Casey steers herself toward the beaten up sofa and sits. Dennis rubs his hand over his head, then follows suit.

Silence rings between them. Casey’s the first to speak.

“Have you been alive this whole time?”

Dennis blinks slowly, not facing her. He takes a short, steadying breath before answering. “You mean the last two years.”

“Yes. Since you—since Kevin died in my arms.” Casey swallows against the rising lump in her throat. “How are you alive, Dennis?”

Dennis looks away. “I don’t know.”

Casey frowns a little. “Hedwig said the same thing.” She recalls the fervent explanation he’d given her before she took him to Harper’s. “He said something about…saying words, over and over?”

Dennis leans forward, hands burrowing in his hair and tugging. Frustration edges in his voice. “The Horde…we knew we were dying. The light was going out. Almost completely gone. We heard Kevin’s voice…” Dennis lifts his head to look at Casey. The emotion swelling in his gaze almost startles her. “It was the strongest we’d ever seen him. So full of conviction. He told us…god. I sound like a madman.”

“You know you’re not,” Casey says gently.

She waits as Dennis struggles to find the right words. Haltingly, he continues. “He told us to believe we’d live. To say it over and over, all of us. All twenty-four of us. It didn’t feel very long. Felt like seconds. When we woke up, we were already buried in the ground.”

Horror wells up inside Casey. She feels Dennis watching her intensely but she can’t focus on it—her mind races with the implication of what he’s just told her. “How…how long have you been awake?”

Dennis levels her with an unblinking stare. “Three weeks.”

Casey’s face goes ashen.

Three weeks ago. _Oh, god_. Casey’s eyes skip over his skin, his hands, his body. Everything is flesh and bone and alive where it should be mottled and degraded beyond help. He’d been dead for two years. _Two years_.

And then he woke up.

“Casey?”

He starts reaching for her and Casey grabs his wrist, tugging it close. Her hands spread out his fingers, palm side up. She traces the lines along his skin and feels warmth wherever she touches. Warm skin, firm nails, protruding veins. She moves two fingers to press at the pulse point along his wrist.

Dennis doesn’t say anything as she does this. She knows she’s building up hysteria but she can’t stop checking. Can’t stop running her fingers over his palm until she closes both hands over his, her grip tight.

Casey lifts her gaze and finds twin blue eyes staring back at her, silent.

“I’m alright.” Dennis’s voice is soft.

“You shouldn’t be alive.” His hand twitches between hers. “You know what I mean. If you woke up three weeks ago…that’s still two and a half years of you being dead. Dennis. You were buried, god, where were you buried? What did they do with you?”

“It was a private property. I didn’t get a good look. I wasn’t the one who dug us out.”

The way Dennis avoids looking at her now is enough to click it in place. Casey nods slowly. “The Beast got you out of your grave.”

“…Yes.”

“You’re alive.”

“Yes.”

She returns her attention to the hand clasped in her lap. She lifts it up again, running her thumbs over the back of Dennis’s hand, slowly tracing his knuckles. “Kevin did something, didn’t he?”

Dennis finally moves his hand, and tentatively curls his fingers over hers. “Yeah. He did.”

“He said—the last thing he said to me was he’d stay in the light.” _For me_ , but she leaves that unspoken. “Where is he?”

Abruptly, Dennis withdraws his hand and straightens in his seat. “He’s asleep again. Not. Not because he can’t handle being awake. Whatever he did for us to live again, it’s left him weak. He’s resting.”

Casey nods, swallowing hard. “I’m glad he’s resting, then.” Casey pointedly meets Dennis’s eyes. “I’m glad you’re here, Dennis. All of you. For however long I have you.”

Something inexplicable flickers over Dennis’s face, but it settles back to cool regard. “So am I.”

They sit quietly for a minute, absorbing. Casey’s attention flickers to his navel. “And the gunshot wound?”

With an unaffected blink, Dennis pulls the end of his shirt from his pants and reveals smooth, unblemished skin. “It was like that when we woke up.”

“Are all of your…” Casey purses her lips unsurely. “All of your other scars too?”

Dennis nods.

It’s too much. It’s too much information and visual stimulation and Casey lets out a nervous laugh. “Honestly, I don’t know what to say. Or think.”

“You don’t need to,” Dennis says firmly. “I only came by to see how you were doing. We thought it would be nice, having one person know we’re still alive.”

“Where will you go?” The question comes unbidden. The idea of Dennis walking out of Casey’s apartment right now sends her mind in a panic. “You’re not leaving yet, are you?”

Dennis looks at her for a long moment before shaking his head slightly. “No, I don’t have to leave yet.”

“Where are you staying? Do you need anything?”

“A motel nearby. I don’t need anything, but thank you.”

His responses feel cooler now, hardened. His accent just a little stronger. His walls are coming up, she realizes. Casey wonders if he’s reached his own threshold of sharing his thoughts and feelings.

_He’s scared._

So many thoughts are running through her, not counting the subject matter that she and Dennis were avoiding acknowledging. Hedwig and Dennis’s explanation of how they woke up all danced around one very real, glaring reality.

It’s one thing to say the human mind is capable of things beyond imagination. One thing to be superhuman and create an impervious alter called The Beast.

It is another thing entirely to become immortal, through sheer force of will.

Casey releases a shaking breath she doesn’t realize she was holding. “So.” She stands, and Dennis glances up at her. “Are you up for dinner? I make a mean spaghetti. Full disclosure: it’s not the instant stuff.”

The corner of his mouth twitches. Dennis replies, “Yeah. I could eat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harper’s Ice Cream and Casey’s apartment with the red door (near Ingersoll Park) are all very real places in Philadelphia. And within a perfect commute distance from the Zoo and the community college. You’d be amazed at the absurd amount of time I researched this.


	2. Believe Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am floored and humbled by the overwhelming and kind response from the first chapter. Thank you SO much for giving this story a go.
> 
> This chapter was meant to go up on Tuesday, but I figured I'd post it early. That, and I will be on a plane on Tuesday, so it's better off I post it a few days early. Hope this is a nice boost for the weekend! 
> 
> Enjoy xxx

**Chapter 2 :** Believe Me

Relief practically radiates from Barry as he shovels spaghetti in his mouth. That and pure, incandescent joy.

Dennis had quietly retreated once Casey started tinkering around in the kitchen, leaving Barry to offer his help as she cooked. She’d assured him several times that by twenty-years-old, she was fully capable of throwing pasta in boiling water all by herself.

Barry is fun and vibrant and easy to talk to, but she hasn’t actually ever spoken to him before if she thinks about it. He carries himself so familiarly, though, that Casey barely notices.

“So tell me about your classes, college girl.” Barry winks. “Kevin, he skipped the whole higher education route. Mostly out of necessity and chance—not that he didn’t want to attend. Lord, did he _want_ to. Orwell didn’t just create himself, you know.”

Casey smiles a little, twisting her fork around the pasta noodles. “It’s alright. I’m only part-time, so it’s gonna take me a while to get all the credits I need.”

Barry’s fingers drum on the kitchen table as he watches her. “You really figured yourself out. That’s awesome.”

Casey shrugs, looking intently at her fork. “It wasn’t all me. My foster parents helped me plan it out. They paid half the security deposit for this apartment.”

“And the car,” Barry notes. “Why a car, though? Your commute to the zoo and the college should be, what—four minutes? Six, tops? Is it really worth the insurance and registration fees? Gas?”

She could tell him that it was for if she ever needed to disappear. If Uncle John ever got parole and she needed to get away at a moment’s notice without waiting for a bus or running on foot. That she felt strongly enough to start bussing tables before her high school graduation in desperate hope that she could get a used one; beat up or dirty or half-alive, it didn’t matter. That her foster parents were excessive in their care, and knew how much it meant for her to have a way out.

Casey flickers her gaze at Barry. “It gives me control.”

Understanding crosses over Barry’s face. “That’s fair,” he says softly, with a faint smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He clears his throat. “You got a major yet?”

Suddenly she has the urge to move so Casey stands up, clearing the table and bringing their empty dishes to the kitchen sink. “Yeah.” Casey turns on the faucet and rinses the sauce-stained plates. “I thought a lot about it.”

“And what did you come up with?”

Is there a delicate way to say she’d picked her major and career incidentally because of Kevin and his alters? That twelve years of abuse and sexual assault from her uncle made her want to understand what had been done to her? On how to stop it from happening to others—to help people like herself and Kevin?

She decides that no, there is no delicate way of talking about it. She opts for brutal honesty.

Casey turns away from the sink to face Barry. “I’m majoring in Psychology.”

Barry blinks, his mouth parting. “Oh.” Blinking rapidly, Barry beams at her. “That’s great, Case. Really.”

When she can only parcel out genuine honesty from him, she breathes out a soft sigh. “You’re not weirded by that?”

For once, the exuberance in which Barry carries himself draws back, just enough for something very genuine and sedate to reflect back at her. “Not even a little bit, doll. It’s important, and it’s important to you. If more folks like you were working in the field…maybe things would really start to be different around here.”

“Different enough not to need someone like The Beast?”

Barry darts his gaze away from hers. “Yeah, something like that.”

-:-

Dennis resurfaces when Casey is loading the dishwasher. Barry had already made himself scarce when he realized Casey was genuinely cleaning up, and started browsing around her apartment and picking things up here and there to look at. Sometimes he’d comment on something. At some point, she heard what distinctly sounded like Jade pilfering through her room and loudly lamenting on Casey’s lack of cosmetic drawers.

When Casey turns around it’s Dennis who’s wiping down the kitchen table. Casey leans back against the sink counter. “You don’t have to do that,” she says softly.

He barely glances at her, a wry smile curling his mouth upward. “Believe me, I do.”

Faster than she realizes, daylight fades rapidly to sunset. March has brought a small relief on the cold front the northeast has been facing, the chill less biting and the air less dry. But night still arrives early; it’s barely six o’clock and threads of midnight blue have begun to filter through her living room windows.

“I should probably go now.” Dennis stands awkwardly by the table. Casey doesn’t say anything as he makes for his coat, hooked carefully on the coat rack by the door.

“Are we not going to talk about it, then?”

Dennis stills.

“About what?”

Casey moves out of the kitchen to stand directly in front of Dennis. His expression is guarded. “The fact that Kevin resurrected himself? The fact that you’re immortal?”

Dennis balks almost comically, his face scrunching up. “We’re not immortal.”

Casey gapes at him. “How else do you explain that you walked out of your grave three weeks ago? Dennis, you can’t ignore this.”

“I don’t even know what this is,” he growls.

Casey pauses, staring up at him. Agitation has made all the muscles in his face tighten up, two identical furrows marking his brows.  

“Why are you here, Dennis? Why did you seek me out? If…if you didn’t want my help, if you didn’t want to talk about this, why bother? You knew this talk would happen.”

“We wanted to see you. You’re our only…” Dennis closes his eyes briefly, taking a steadying breath.

“Friend,” Casey finishes, nodding gently. “I am. You—” Casey bites her lip, desperately staving off the tears that threaten to rise. Her voice comes out in a quiet whisper. “You were in my arms, Dennis. All of you. You died. Kevin was dead, and now he’s not. All of you are still here. That _means_ something.”

Her words unlock all the stiff tension in his body as Dennis visibly sags. He doesn’t speak, but he doesn’t move either. Trapped in stasis and indecision.

“Come sit with me.” Casey carefully reaches for his hand.

To her surprise and his own, he doesn’t hesitate to place his hand in hers.

She guides him slowly to the sofa, sensing his skittishness. Any abrupt move would surely send him bolting out of her front door.

When they sit, Casey makes a point to place herself near him, and not just for his benefit. Everything in the last two hours has left her emotionally raw.

Dennis wrings his hands, the movements compulsive and exact. Watching his tendons and knuckles and fingertips move and writhe is almost hypnotic. Pantomime to the likes of thrashing prey, desperately clinging to consciousness, fighting to live. Maybe that was how the Horde had seen Casey too, in the basement of the zoo all those years ago.

The longer Casey watches him, the harsher the reality of him being here finally starts to really sink in. Kevin is alive. The Horde is alive. She’d fed them ice cream and pasta and now Dennis is perseverating while he sits on her sofa.

In her apartment.

He’d found her, watched her, and approached her—so externally similar to their first encounter, but could not be more different now.

Her eyes trace over the profile of his face, all sharp angles and deep-set frowns. She is seeing the hunter among Kevin’s alters, a man of precision and cunning. Who’d made her miserable. Made her fight. Who had inadvertently brought an end to her own abuse story.

Who had died in her arms, seeking forgiveness and begging her to clean the blood from his pants.

“Things are different now.” Casey breaks the silence. Dennis slowly turns his head to look at her. “When the three of you died…there was leaked footage of what happened. Of your abilities. Me, Mrs. Price, and Joseph—we put it on the internet for the world to see.” A small, tremulous smile stretches across her lips. “Everyone believes in superhumans now. The secret’s out.”

She sees Dennis’s throat bob when he swallows. “I saw. On the internet…I saw. Some folks were even talking about it in a diner not far from here.”

Casey exhales softly. “You already know, then.” Dennis gives her a questioning look. “That Patricia was right.”

Dennis recoils, frowning severely. “What?”

“Look at you, Dennis. You’re”—she laughs incredulously—“you’re sitting in my goddamn living room. You’re not even a zombie or—or whatever; you’re alive. ‘The highest form of human evolution’ and all.” She shakes her head again, disbelieving. “I was wrong. Everyone was wr…” Casey goes still.

Oh. _Oh_.

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

Casey stares at Dennis, bewildered. “Kevin knew. He figured it out.”

Dennis looks at her with alarm. “What did Kevin know?”

“He had to believe. To believe he would live. To say it over and over again…only it couldn’t just be him, because it’s not just him inside his head. All twenty-four of you had to believe it.” Dennis is shaking his head unsurely but Casey leans forward, forcing him to focus on her. “What else have you believed so strongly that it came true?”

It takes him a moment. She sees the switch turn on in his head as Dennis’s eyes go round, disbelief and wonder warring on his expression. “No.”

“You, Patricia, Hedwig…and half the others were mostly convinced at some point, too. About The Beast. Isn’t that right?”

Dennis tears his gaze away from hers, fingers making slight depressions on the sofa cushion he’s gripping. “Holy shit.”

Her next words are softer, muted. “You believed The Beast into existence. And Kevin? Kevin made everyone believe he’d stay alive.”

A shudder runs through Dennis and suddenly it’s Barry who’s sitting next to her, staring at Casey trepidatiously. “That’s what that was? When Kevin told us to…over and over, and we kept saying it, that’s what that was? Belief kept us alive?”

Casey nods, wondrous disbelief in her own voice. “I think so. You had to believe.”

Another violent shudder, and she ventures that Orwell is the one talking to her now. “Kevin’s body should have decomposed regardless, though I’m curious if it was, in fact, the superhuman element that prevented bacterial degradation. If Kevin’s will of consciousness sustained the body to full recovery, resulting in a collective regained consciousness nearly three years post-mortem.”

“It has to be. This would mean that The Beast isn’t your superpower.” Casey’s mind makes the connection rapidly. “He’s just a…a result of your superpower. You can believe things into reality. At least, where your own body is concerned.”

For the first time, Orwell sits back against the sofa, speechless as he processes her words.

A grimace and a shudder leads to an alter that Casey can’t quite identify. He relaxes completely against the sofa cushion, legs spreading comfortably where he sits.

“Right,” he drawls, sending Casey a smirk. “Believing things into reality about myself? Think we can dream up a bigger dick, then?”

Casey’s jaw drops. He throws back his head and cackles before a final shudder goes through him.

Dennis straightens, equal parts irate and embarrassed. “And that is why Luke doesn’t get to be in the Light.”

Casey snorts.

He sobers quickly, leveling Casey with an earnest look. “You have no idea what it means that you’re trying to help us,” Dennis says. “I think you’re right. About our true ability.” Briefly, his eyes skitter away from hers, bitterness tinging his tone. “It was never The Beast after all.”

“It doesn’t make him any less real. Or important.” Casey ducks a little to peer at him, frowning at his troubled expression. “You know he is.”

Dennis narrows his eyes at her. “How can you say that? After what he’s done? What he almost did to you?”

Casey looks at Dennis steadily. “He also stopped when I told him to. Didn’t hurt me when I held his arm. The Horde made him what he is—someone to protect Kevin. It’s not...I don’t think it’s his fault for being the way he is.”

Dennis doesn’t immediately reply. He’s thinking rapidly, conflicted by what she’s just said. Finally, he says, “I don’t want to talk about him right now.”

Casey nods understandingly. “We don’t have to talk about him. But he is a part of you now. And if…” Casey bites her lip. “If this really is your ability, then I think you could probably…adjust…certain cannibalistic qualities The Beast decided to have. Or you guys decided it had to have. I’m not sure how that works. It would make…things easier.”

Dennis looks away. “I don’t know.”

An uncomfortable silence stretches between them.

“I should really go now, Casey.”

Something inside her starts closing up. “I’m sorry if I said something wrong.”

“No. _No_. You didn’t.”

“Still.”

“Casey, look at me.” Tentatively, she looked at Dennis. “You sittin’ here, talking to me. After everything, after what we put you through...there are no lines we have that you don’t have the right to cross.”

A smile tugs at Casey's lips.

When he gets up she almost considers offering him to stay, if it weren’t for the way Dennis was clamming up again. He may have reassured her, but she knows when someone needs space and room to think. Frankly, so does she.

She walks him to the door, waiting while he puts on his coat.

“Come back tomorrow.”

Dennis pauses in adjusting his collar.

Her expression gives nothing away, and neither does his. Two inscrutable sets of eyes stare at each other down.

“Okay.”

Just as Dennis turns to leave, he pauses. With a gimlet glance, he turns to face her again. “Did you still want to…?”

Casey frowns, confused. Dennis ducks his head in offering, tilting it just slightly and giving her an expectant look.

A slow, bright grin spreads across Casey’s face. “Oh, yeah.”

Soft hands lift up and run through even softer brown hair. She sows brief rows along Dennis’s scalp, the sensation deep and richly satisfying. “I didn’t think you’d actually let me do it. I was like, mostly kidding.”

Dennis shrugs, but she sees pink tinting his cheeks as he briefly avoids looking at her. “I said I’d let you.”

Casey lets her hands drop at her sides and Dennis nods curtly, turning to leave.

“Come back tomorrow,” Casey says again.

Dennis glances back at her, amused. “I will.”

She doesn’t ask which motel he’s staying at or if he has a cell number. It’s a question for tomorrow.

Casey closes the door behind him and presses her back against it, utterly lost in thought.


	3. Contrition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3, as promised! Clearly my plans for Tuesday postings are fucked, so just expect one every week. x
> 
> Side note - Glass was one of the movie options on my flight. It’s like the universe is rooting me on for this fic!

**Chapter 3 :** Contrition

Hedwig swings his legs off the edge of the bed in the motel room, a goofy smile on his face. “I’m tired of sleeping here. Do you guys have a plan? Etcetera?”

Dennis emerges, pressing his hands on top of his thighs with a deep frown. “I’m thinking.”

Barry rolls his eyes and falls back against the bedspread. “Mister Smartass over here is full of hot air, Hedwig. He has no plan, just like the rest of us.”

“But…but you always have a plan. You have to have a plan. What’re we gonna do?” Hedwig lisps, worried. He turns on his side and curls into a ball.

Immediately Jade rolls back over, checking her nails. “What we always do. We’ll survive.”

“But is that enough?” Barry asks thoughtfully. “We’ve been flying by the seat of our pants since The Beast crawled out of the grave. And everything Casey said made total sense. Where do we go from here?”

“We go nowhere.” The prim voice of Orwell enters the fray. “We made Kevin a criminal. We allowed The Beast to consume flesh and take lives. We ought to turn ourselves in.”

“Hello? We already died!” Barry outbursts. “The world thinks we’re dead. What’ll happen if anyone catches sight of us again? How do we live anymore? Get a job, get a new identity—oh shut up, Jade,” Barry says sourly.

“What? You expect me to keep quiet when you say ‘get an identity’?” Jade snickers.

Norma surfaces, wringing her hands together nervously. “I’m sorry, but—we can’t let the outside world know Kevin is alive. Have we forgotten who killed us? And they’ll kill us again if they knew we survived. Worse, even.”

Dennis returns with ire. “So you want us to hide again? Hide who we are?”

Barry glares at the ceiling. “That’s the bed you made, asshole. We all gotta lie in it now.”

Angry, fuming silence passes. “I never wanted the killings,” Dennis says. “I never wanted to take those girls. Never.”

The Horde doesn’t reply, stunned at the raw honesty in Dennis’s words.

“We know,” Barry says, finally. He sounds resigned. “And it’s good to hear. It just…doesn’t change where we are now. We _have_ to be in this together this time, on everything we do from now on. For Kevin’s sake. We all agreed?”

Murmurs of agreement fill the air.

Jade then says, “It still leaves us with: what do we do now?”

An uncertain beat passes.

Tentatively, Hedwig raises his hand. “Do you think, maybe, we should talk to Miss Patricia?”

“ _No!_ ”

“Hedwig, don’t you dare.”

Lower lip wobbling, Hedwig moans miserably and buries his face into the pillow.

**-:-**

Dennis is already leaning against her apartment building when Casey pulls in to the curb. Warmth flaring in her chest, she grabs her purse, stepping out of the car.

“You came back,” Casey says.

“I said I would.”

She notices a small backpack hanging from his shoulder as she leads him to her door. He’s warmly bundled today, wrapped in a windbreaker and scarf with the boots from yesterday and thick, woolen gloves. “Have you been waiting a long time?”

“No.”

“Oh. Good.”

There’s a sense of déjà vu when they enter her apartment: Dennis carefully hanging his coat and pulling off his shoes and gloves, Casey idling nearby until he turns to face her. She waits as Dennis meticulously folds his gloves and scarf, pressing the wool ever so gently before hanging them on top of his coat. 

“So…” Casey ventures. “How was your day today?”

Dennis steps away from the coat rack. “Good.”

“Can I get you something?”

“No thank you.” Dennis pauses, closing his eyes. “Sorry. Force of habit. A water, if that’s alright?”

“Of course it’s alright.” Casey pulls out a glass from a kitchen cabinet and fills it up, passing it to him. “Have you eaten yet?”

Dennis ignores the question, which makes Casey think no, he probably hasn’t eaten today and is being too polite to make anything of it.

She briefly considers directing them to sit again, but the set on Dennis’s jaw tells her he’s building up to say something important. The last thing she wants to do is distract him from it. 

So, patiently, she waits.

“Casey.”

“Yeah?”

Dennis furrows his brows, choosing his words carefully. “For a long time we thought Kevin was weak. Not of any fault of his own…but it’s why we’re here. He made The Horde to help him. Then, we made The Beast to help him. And now, he brought us all back from the dead.”

Casey nods hesitantly, watching as he began to pace.

Anxiously, Dennis rubs the back of his head. “I know I have no right to come here. You’ve shown kindness. Friendship. Both undeserved.”

“That’s not—”

Dennis holds up a hand. “Just. Hear me out.”

Pressing her lips together, Casey nods again.

“Kevin brought us back for a reason. He never…he…” Dennis struggles for a moment. “His whole life, being in the Light was hard for him. And for him to hold on to it for as long as he did; to _believe_ , for so long…” Dennis clears his throat. “I believe we were brought back for a second chance. We’re here for a reason, and I won’t let Kevin’s work go to waste.”

“You won’t, Dennis.” Casey offers a reassuring smile. “The fact that you’re telling me this just proves that you won’t.”

Dennis nods once, the corners of his mouth twitching in a forced smile. “I appreciate that.”

Dennis doesn’t look likely to run off so Casey decides it’s safe to sit. She walks to the living room and sinks into a sofa cushion, and Dennis follows after her. “So, what does a second chance look like to you? What exactly do you want out of your life now?”

“I…” Dennis swallows hard. “I can’t answer that.”

“Why?”

“Casey, it took three weeks to get back to Philly. To find you. _Safely_. We hadn’t thought beyond that when The Beast pulled us out of our grave.” Dennis sits back wearily. “I don’t know what to do anymore. None of us do.”

Casey’s heart clenched. They’d come looking for her the moment they woke up. She’s not fully sure what that means. 

“I get that,” Casey says softly. “Not knowing what to do. For so long I was afraid of getting away from my uncle, for all the things he said would happen if I did. And it _was_ scary. Sending him to jail was scary. Being put in the foster system was scary. College, work, even just this,” Casey gestures at her clothes, which have significantly less layers than Casey used to sport, “was a lot to go through. I felt alone.”

Casey leans in, putting a gentle hand on Dennis’s arm. He shivers a little, getting that look of startled awe he always does whenever Casey touches him. “You don’t have to be alone in this. Let me help you.”

Dennis gives her a significant look. “You don’t have to, you know that right?”

“I do,” Casey says. “But I will. And I want to.”

“Even if it’s wrong.”

“What’s wrong about it?”

Dennis stares at her.

Casey rolls her eyes. “We are way past that, Dennis. Pretty much around the time you died in my arms.”

“Do you have to bring that up so much?”

“I mean…it’s a significant thing that happened. I can’t pretend it didn’t have some effect on me.”

“Even still, it’s…” Dennis meets her gaze wretchedly, shame filling his voice. “I am sorry. For what we did. For what I…”

Casey grows quiet, remembering Marcia and Claire. It had taken a while to reconcile with the memory of their last moments that Casey had witnessed.

“It was wrong,” Casey says finally. “And it was what The Beast thought he had to do. I wish it hadn’t happened. But if it hadn’t...” Casey breaks eye contact and stares at her lap. “If it hadn’t, I’d still be living with my uncle, letting him...h-hurt me every night. But The Beast…” Casey glances up at Dennis. His expression is stricken with concern. “He looked at me. Saw the ugliest parts of myself and called me pure. I’ve never felt that before. Never…”

Rapidly losing control over her emotions, she has to stop. Talking about it is something she still can’t do, not really. A lump is forming in her throat and Casey presses her lips together, determined to keep her traitorous tears at bay.

“I never thought I was clean. Good.”

Boldly, Dennis reaches out and rests his hand on hers. His touch is soft, his skin surprisingly softer.

“What your uncle did to you was wrong,” says Dennis intensely.  “You understand? He was wrong. He should have never touched you.”

“I know. It was his fault.” Casey chews on her lip. “But if he hadn’t done those things to me, The Beast would’ve killed me.”

“The Beast was _wrong_.” The grip on her hand tightens. “Nobody should have to suffer. The answer is never suffering. I should’ve known that. Of all people, I should’ve known.”

Casey’s eyes flicker over him, an ache filling her chest. She’d never ask, just like he’d never ask, but she knows. Understands the extent Kevin’s mother abused him.

“I’m sorry.”

Casey glances up at him. “I forgive you, Dennis. I did a long time ago.”

Dennis seems to struggle with this, blinking rapidly. “Kevin is good,” he mutters, voice thick with feeling. “So good. He’s the best of us, of course. And all of us, even Patricia, we were good people. It just—it got so out of hand—I never—”

“Dennis.” Casey places her free hand on top of his. “I forgive you. It’s up to you now to accept it and forgive yourself.”

Dennis shudders an exhale, crystal blue eyes boring through hers. She almost thinks he’s going to switch to someone else, but he doesn’t. He holds onto the Light as firmly as he’s holding onto her hand. In turn, both her hands cradle his, and Casey hopes he can see the honesty behind her eyes.

It occurs to her then that there is a reason it’s Dennis having this conversation with her right now and not the other alters. Dennis had come here in contrition. Had the most to be sorry for, having been the one to take her. He knew he needed her help but wouldn’t ask for it without laying himself bare before her judgment.

“Okay.”

Casey returns her attention to Dennis. “Yeah?”

Dennis nods, staring curiously at their joined hands. The sight seems to overwhelm him. The touch must too. “We have to move forward now. I can’t forgive myself yet. But for you to forgive me…it means more than you know.”

Casey gives his hand a final squeeze before letting go. “I have a few ideas in terms of a plan. But first, there’s some questions I’d like to ask.”

Dennis straightens. “Anything.”

“Where is The Beast?”

“Far away.” At Casey’s questioning look, he inhales deeply and elaborates. “The Beast isn’t human. He doesn’t have a chair. He lives in the shadows beyond the room. He’ll only come if called—and none of us ever plan to again.”

“Unless Kevin is in danger,” Casey reminds him. “He comes out if Kevin needs help—like when he got Kevin out of the grave. It’s what he’s made for.”

Reluctantly, Dennis nods. “He is what we made him.”

Casey briefly wonders if a part of him still worships The Beast, but knows better than to ever ask. He’d made it clear he found the whole ordeal repulsive now. 

Dennis’s ability to have faith in something that strongly, though, is important. Especially with Kevin’s realized power. She files this away to discuss later.

“And Patricia?” Casey asks.

Dennis’s expression hardens. His voice is cold when he answers. “She is no longer allowed in the room with the chairs. She’s banished.”

Casey thinks on this for a moment. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

Dennis balks. “You _want_ her around?”

“Not really, but…just like you, she did what she genuinely thought was best for Kevin.”

“So that makes it right?” Dennis is incredulous.

“ _No_ ,” Casey emphasizes, “but Patricia is an extension of Kevin, and no part of Kevin is a bad person. I’m just not sure if banishment is a good long-term plan. Look what it did last time?” Dennis looks away sharply. Casey tries again. “She’s smart and clever and we might need her help.”

“We won’t.”

“Does she know what Kevin’s actual power is?”

Dennis scowls. “No one has spoken to her. I won’t let them.”

 Casey frowns. “Won’t knowing that make a difference in how she worships The Beast?”

“Patricia is a high priestess,” Dennis says. “Faith is all she has.”

Casey bites her lip. “I don’t think she worships The Beast anymore, Dennis. How could she worship something that got Kevin killed?”

Dennis looks at her oddly. “Why are you defending her? After what she did to you? And I know for a fact she’s not sorry about any of it.”

Casey sighs, feeling exasperated. “It has nothing to do with that, Dennis. What she did wasn’t personal, just like you. And just like you, I don’t think she’s evil. I think…she regrets what she’s done.”

“How could you possibly know?”

Casey chews on her lower lip, contemplative. “Hedwig said Patricia held onto him tightly and told him to believe. To say it over and over again, when Kevin was dying.” Casey frowns. “Maybe she does know Kevin’s real ability, after all.”

Dennis seems troubled by her words, and sits lost in thought.

“You don’t have to do anything right now,” Casey says softly. “Just…some food for thought.”

“I can’t—” Dennis shakes his head. “There’s only so much I can do right now, Casey. One thing at a time.”

“That’s fine,” Casey says quickly. “It’s just a thought.”

Dennis looks over her slowly, _really_ looks at her. “You really do care about us, don’t you.”

Casey lifts a shoulder wordlessly, a barely there smile on her lips.

Something new enters Dennis’s gaze, something that makes Casey shift a bit on the sofa and brings a flutter to her belly.

Unwittingly, that look alone brings words to her lips she hadn’t planned to say aloud. “You’re...you’re important to me, Dennis.”

The intensity of Dennis’s gaze flares, and for a moment it looks like he’s going to reach out for her.

He never does. Instead, Dennis gives her something greater: a warm, widening smile. 

It’s the first true smile she’s seen on him since the day at the hospital, when he’d been pleased her clothes weren’t dirty—Dennis’s own way of expressing happiness at seeing her again.

“So,” Casey says cheerily, “let’s talk plans.”


End file.
